


Toilet Paper Wars

by typewriter_in_galaxy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Attempt at Humor, COVID-19, Crack, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Alive, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Quarantine, R2-D2 is a cat and also a serial cockblocker, The Author Regrets Nothing, They're so in love your honor, Threepio is a cat too, this is a serious issue but this fic is looking for the brighter humorous side of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23563450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typewriter_in_galaxy/pseuds/typewriter_in_galaxy
Summary: Rey is introduced to her boyfriend’s parents. She survives the long-anticipated dinner, but news of the 21st century plague hit the Skywalker-Naberrie-Organa-Solo household right after. Ben is significantly less upset about being confined in his family home, since Rey will be staying too.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Poe Dameron/Finn, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Wedge Antilles/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 18
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my first reylo fic! it's utterly self-indulgent and inspired by this [lovely fanart](https://twitter.com/theriseofswolo/status/1242581522475081736) of one of my favourite arists - you can follow her on [twitter](https://twitter.com/theriseofswolo) for more incredible reylo fanart!

“Here’s what we’ll propose – the Organas remain in the guest room, grandma Padme stays in her room with grandpa, Luke moves into the basement, Dad takes the living room or the garage and mom will have the big bedroom and her office, which leaves my old bedroom and the kitchen to us.” Ben placed the half-full baking dish in front of Rey and took a seat close to her. “Oh, the dining room too, they won’t miss an opportunity to dodge cleaning up and doing the dishes.”

“Won’t they mind being excluded from the kitchen?” Rey asked through a mouthful of leftover lasagna.

“As if any of them will cook,” Ben scoffed. “Mom will schedule a million Skype meetings, Dad will be modifying the Falcon all day,” Rey’s eyes lit up, wishing that she, too, could tinker with the old mechanical wonder, “and Luke will forsake all human communication except for texting his boyfriend.” Rey’s conspiratory smirk may have had more effect, if her cheeks weren’t stuffed like a squirrel’s.

Ben wiped some sauce from the corner of her mouth and smiled affectionately as she licked her thumb. “Worry not; I will keep you and the rest of the family fed. I’ll even leave trays at the thresholds of the boomers.”

“So you’ll be cooking?” Rey beamed at him. “Will you make lasagna again?”

“Lasagna and pancakes and anything else you want,” and for all the meticulousness of his approach to hygiene, Ben noticed no stain on his cheek, only her kiss as she threw her arms around his shoulders. He wrapped his own arms around her until she was burrowed deep in his embrace, leaning somewhat awkwardly from her chair but loving it anyway.

“You should have eaten more during dinner, sweetheart; everyone loved you, and not because of your table manners. You’re amazing.” The last words came out more hushed and reverent, his palm running from the small of her back to her nape. “Also, I saw you drooling over the special dish Chewbacca sent.” An indignant Rey tried to pull back and protest, but a chuckling Ben held her tight.

“Finish your meal and let’s go back to the battlefront.” He reluctantly let her go and watched as she inhaled what was left of his dish.

“How come Han won’t share the bedroom with Leia?”

“Because he’s taken to helping people living on the streets, and he’ll want to continue helping despite of the situation, no, because of it, and mom will yell at him, as she should.” Ben ran a hand through his hair, seemingly tired already from the brawling.

“That’s very admirable, though. You’ve got an amazing dad,” Rey answered, and if her words were colored with just the tiniest hint of envy, well, her Ben would understand.

“Sure, getting himself sick is very admirable. He’s not been in a great shape after his heart attack, Rey, he would be only risking himself.” He looked up when her hand closed over his and mirrored her small smile despite his worry.

“Let’s get back to them or they’ll start teasing us about what took us so long.” Rey stood up and walked out the kitchen, her boyfriend in tow.

An odd sight welcomed them in the living room; the infamous pilot Han Solo had stacked all the toilet paper rolls of the household on the coffee table and was counting them furiously, while former Princess and Senator Leia Organa was trying to calm both her husband and someone on the phone and Luke Skywalker was laughing from the couch.

“Ah, there you are!” Han ushered the young couple in and clapped them on their backs. “There’s been some development, while you two were busy swapping fluids.” Luke slid a couple inches closer to carpet, his laugh now so hysterical, it had no sound. The couple of culprits blushed and protested, but Han only raised an eyebrow.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you playing footsies at the table, kids.” Leia smacked his shoulder on her way to find better signal, although the corner of her lips was suspiciously raised. Ben rolled his eyes; Rey started to look as if she would rather be somewhere else.

“Any way, all the people in this country are idiots and even if we hurry, we ain’t gonna find any toilet paper soon. So we’ll make do with what we have. I’m setting the ground rules here.” Han tore a segment of toilet paper and held it up, as if presenting a confidential document. “One. Square. Each.”

Ben raised a hand solemnly. “Can Rey have two since Luke doesn’t use any?” Luke’s protests mingled with Han’s accusations of favoritism and Leia’s plea for quiet, so she could finish her call. Rey spaced out amidst the cacophony, looking around the amply furnished room, until her eye caught a figure close to the doorway.

An adorable old lady was trying to sneak in the living room; Rey only caught sight of her floral nightgown and her fluffy slippers before Leia noticed her, too, having just hang up.

“Mom, you better stay in you room!”

“But I wanted to meet Benny’s girlfriend!” Her puppy eyes could thaw the coldest of hearts; Rey was smiling and waving at her behind Leia’s back before she realized it. Grandma beamed back at her, but Leia had not said the final word.

“Too bad! You’re quarantined with Dad!” Grandma pouted in response, but ultimately trudged back towards her room. When she disappeared from their sight, Leia’s attention turned back to Rey.

“You’ll stay with us, of course; for safety reasons, but please know we’re thrilled to have you here.” Leia ran a hand down Rey’s sleeve and gave her a reassuring smile.

“It’s not that much of a distance to my apartment, again, I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“Nonsense; you’ve seen the place, we’ve got more space than what to do with it.” Rey nodded, and bit back a remark about how the stacks of books, maps, documents and spare parts at every corner showed that the Organa-Solos did have a purpose for every inch of floor they owned. It was rather endearing, how their stuff were intertwined, impossible to tease apart. And anyway, Rey thought that with her scavenging tendencies, she was in no place to judge.

Leia leaned in, her smile just a touch mischievous. “After all, it will be nice to have an ally; otherwise I’d be woefully outnumbered by all those men.” She glanced fondly at the three adults huddled around the pile of toilet papers. Their conversation had moved into room arrangements and Ben seemed to be making some strong points; Luke was running his good through his beard and Han was nodding along.

“Alright, I’m just going to step back for a bit and call my roommate.” Rey weaved through the couches and pulled up Finn’s contact. She was pacing around in the hallway as the phone kept ringing and he refused to pick it up. Just as she was about to go back inside, her screen lit up with a text from an unknown number.

<969 164-2187>: Hey this is Finn

<969 164-2187>: Long story short everyone went bonkers during my shift at the grocery store and my phone broke in the commotion so I’m using Poe’s

<969 164-2187>: Also Poe’s landlord wants his flat back, his daughter is a nurse and must isolate from the family

<969 164-2187>: So I told him he could stay at our place

<969 164-2187>: Until the quarantine’s over, no biggie

<969 164-2187>: You okay with that?

Rey grinned at her phone. There was no way she was going back at their apartment now; best not interrupt Finn’s sexual awakening and the romantic tryst that would ensue. Hoping that prolonged exposure to Poe’s charm would help her friend get out of the denial he’d been shielding his feelings with, Rey texted him that she’d be staying at Ben’s place.

She turned back to the living room, only to collide with Ben’s chest, its broadness still startling her despite of the months that should have gotten her accustomed to him, since they spent them together. But they didn’t; her heartbeat still picked up when she looked up at him and her cheeks warmed when he smiled, all dimples and crooked teeth.

“I was just coming to get you. Negotiations are over, our place is secured. Let me show you the way to our room.” Ben strode ahead, his palm warm against the small of her back.

“Can’t I say goodnight to your parents?” Ben couldn’t help but smile at her lovely face, scrunched as it was with concern as she treaded along.

“Mom went to inform her parents, the adoptive ones—”

“The Organas,” Rey confirmed her understanding of this household’s intricate dynamics.

“Correct. Dad is preparing Chewie’s bed in the garage and Luke already vanished. They were all grumpy after arguing for a while, anyway,” he added when Rey’s shoulders sagged. “You’re not the only one who wanted to make a good impression.”

Rey nudged his side; Ben wrapped one arm around her shoulders and opened the door to the room he spent his childhood and troubled years in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope this put a smile to your face during the hard times we're living! i'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/typewriter_in) if you ever want to fangirl with me


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> these idiots are so in love and they just refuse to succumb to this fic's rating yet. alas, have more fluff.

Ben’s old room was, in a way, an extension of the person he used to be. In the corner where his toys were stashed, the bottom of the walls held angry crayon streaks, contrasting with the linguistic competition awards framed at eye level; a set of miniature aircrafts was hanging elegantly from the high ceiling; in his broad bookcase, literary classics and modern romances went hand in hand with sci-fi adventures.

Rey pictured the toddler he was, ignoring his expensive toys and lashing out in a plea for attention; the child he was, looking up to his father’s adventures, his dreams too far away from his grasp; the teen he was, hunched and curled in on himself, blocking the world away with a book in his hands. A window was open, adjacent to his bed, and something in her chest tightened as she imagined him, knees on the tangled covers, elbows propped on the sill, gazing at the sky with sleep-starved eyes, sick of his nightmares.

The man he was that day indulged her desire to trace his belongings and search for the parts of him that were still missing from the structure she had built in her head, reconstructing his character in a way she could understand and admire. He leaned against the closed door and watched her with a fond smile. She soon turned back to him and he took her hand before she could fidget awkwardly, leading her to his desk.

Ben dwarfed the desk chair, which creaked in protest as he sat and bent to rummage his drawers, but he paid it no mind. With Rey standing behind him, he produced his old calligraphy set from its case, complete with ink pots and long brushes that looked thin between his fingers. 

Ben needed little encouragement to show her the poetry he’d copied in his fluid handwriting. The tips of his ears became rosy when she caressed his shoulders and told him how elegant his writings were, how skilled his hands. Rey caught herself falling a bit more in love with him upon seeing him so excited, as he turned off the lights and presented another notepad.

There was a poem written there, one that spoke of peace and passion, but Rey could only see the angles and curves of his face, illuminated gently by the blue ink. She went on her tiptoes and Ben immediately leaned down, falling in the easy sync that always entwined them, even in their beginning, when they only knew how to fight.  
“I want to draw on you some day,” she whispered against his lips before capturing them with her own. Ben sighed and molded his body over hers, his hands wandering everywhere he could reach. He licked into her mouth ardently and shivered when she bit him lightly in response, her tongue soothing over the bruise that would bloom there.

Her calves hit the bed frame and they messily maneuvered without breaking their kiss until they were sprawled onto it. Rey pulled back to catch her breath, only to grin after glancing at the ceiling. “Pretty.”

Ben, surprised and mildly offended that her eyes weren’t on him when she said that, looked up and huffed. “Yes, I may or may not have taken an interest in studying insects back in third grade.” He stretched out on his back and Rey took the opportunity to drape half of her body over his, an initiative he welcomed by pulling her closer. 

“Dad took me to a butterfly museum when he saw my drawings and I was so fascinated by the embalmed blue morpho, he got me stickers of her along with some stars. So here we are.” He turned to her and she poked one of his dimples. “You’re dating a nerd who’s into butterflies, calligraphy, and all things that glow.” Like your smile, he wanted to add, but he felt somewhat fragile around her still, and tried not to drown her in affection.

“And I’m into him, so it’s the perfect arrangement,” Rey replied and sealed the matter with a kiss. With him laid back as he was, it was the easiest thing in the world to pepper kisses along his neck and jawline, to run gentle fingers through his hair and trace the shell of his adorably large ear. Rey did all of this and more, and because he was so warm and responsive, she soon found herself straddling his hips and yanking off her blouse.

Just as Ben’s hands traced the hem of her brallette, with the care of someone unwrapping a long-awaited gift, a scratching echoed from outside the door, followed by a low whine. That was it; Rey sprang up and went to the door. “Don’t open!” Ben pleaded from the bed.

“Come on, why are you like that? You didn’t even tell me you had a cat!” She pulled the door back and a fat little fellow trotted in.

“I don’t.” Ben rolled his eyes. “It’s my mother’s, who inherited it from my grandmother, who received it as a courting gift from my grandfather, and even my uncle had it at some point.” The cat curled up with its back to Ben’s foot and blinked suspiciously at Rey.

“How did it survive so long?” The fellow in question did not appreciate questions about the secret of its longevity and shot her an unimpressed look. She crouched on the floor so they could be on even ground.

“Who knows? He’s got nine lives. He’s actually a highly intelligent robot. The original one died and left an identical replacement without anyone noticing. The possibilities are endless.” 

“I could never find a cat identical to him.” The cat had now warmed up to Rey a bit and had conceded to receive a faint scratching behind his ears. He was, indeed, one of a kind; graced with the visage of a Himalayan cat, the fur of a Russian Blue and the thickness of a pet whose love language is extra snacks when the strict family member is not looking.

“Yeah, Artoo is one of a kind. Be careful though.” No sooner had the words come out of his plush mouth than her hand received a scratch from the cat she’d been diligently petting. Ben tried not to laugh at Rey’s look of utter betrayal.

“I tried to warn you. He will use his nails to love you. I should know; I’ve been trying to pet him ever since I could crawl.”

“And he never wants to be petted?” Rey’s eyes went so wide and sad that he had the irrational urge to pet her in assurance.

“He does, but up to a specific limit. Any further and he gets hostile. He’s nice, though. I remember leaving the door open, no more than a sliver of it, and waking up in the middle of the night to find him nestled at the foot of my bed. It was a small comfort.” Rey surged up to plant a kiss on the corner of his lip and another one on the top of the cat’s head, pulling back before he could claw at her again.

“I’m sure he and I will get along.” She stood up and Ben leaned on his elbow, reaching out to examine her hand. “This isn’t the worst scratch he’s ever inflicted, but I have ointment and a few band-aids in the bathroom.”

“It really is nothing—”

“I insist. You’re my guest and hence I should take care of you.”

She rolled her eyes, but her poorly suppressed smile betrayed her. “You do that regardless of where we are.”

He kissed her temple and stood up, too. “And I will continue to.”

“Could I take I shower while we’re at it? Since this is your private bathroom and all.” Rey followed him through the side door and into the crammed space.

“Now that the multiple bathrooms are useful, you can’t mock them,” he answered while searching through the cabinets, his back bent ever so slightly.

“Of course I can! Three bathrooms for a three-person family are just absurd. You can’t convince me otherwise.”

“The third one is reserved for guests. And mine isn’t much to write home about, as you can see.” Ben turned to her, a small tube in his hand.

“Damn rich people,” she muttered darkly. Ben stayed tactfully silent while applying ointment on her hand.

“Here’s a towel, use any product you like—”

“Oh, I’m going to get luscious locks like you!” Rey pumped a fist in victory, undeterred by Ben’s raised brow.

“…suit yourself. Also, I think some of my old clothes will fit you; you can take all of them, or none of them, since it will be just us in this room for a while.” Rey couldn’t decide between kissing that smirk off his face and suggesting that he should forego his shirt as well, so she started taking off the clothes to prepare for her shower. Ben, ever the gentleman, stepped out to give her space without more than a brief, heated stare.

He flopped down on his bed and looked up the glowing patterns on his ceiling with a sigh. Artoo’s purrs were met with a half hearted glare. “I’ll let you off this time,” Ben groused, “but if you butt in again, I will finish what grandfather started.” The cat only meowed, keeping his malicious plans to cockblock another generation of Skywalkers secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic really warms my heart, i hope you feel the same! you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/typewriter_in)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [this](https://twitter.com/kyloreycosplay/status/1252344237217034240) is how i picture Ben and Rey in the beginning of this chapter. will i ever rise up to my rating? who knows. enjoy the fluff.

Sunlight spilled through the curtains to find their heavy eyelids, unwilling though they were to open. Years of fending off the desert and waiting for her parents taught Rey to rest lightly, curled up in a ball, while Ben, an ocean away, was chasing a fitful sleep, his limbs sprawled, seeking more mattress, more blankets, a hint of warmth. And yet, their mingled breaths and tight embrace brought them quiet; even the night’s retreat could not convince them to part from each other and their slumber.

Ben wrapped his arms more comfortably around Rey’s torso and lied on his back, so that he could be her mattress and let her nuzzle his chest freely. He was content to soak up her heat, a cat lazing in the sunshine, until Rey shifted right on his crotch, eliciting a moan from him. Ben muffled it against her sleep-mussed hair and leaned lower, his full lips closing around her earlobe. She pressed closer to him still, planting each knee by the side of his hips, and blindly stretched upwards, to kiss him without banishing the sleep from her eyes.

Mornings like that, languid and soft, with their simmering heat, could become a regular occurrence in their lives. Just as that promise floated in Rey’s head, though, something rustled the sheets next to her ankle. Her instincts kicking in, she almost fell out of the bed, save for Ben’s palm resting on her back. He traced her spine, a smooth movement that would have calmed her at any other instance. 

“Ben, there’s something against my leg!” Rey squirmed away from the ball of fur tagging along her calf, but the movement brought her clit against the seam of her- his- pants, and her mouth opened on his.

“You know it isn’t just something, sweetheart,” he murmured between kisses. His palms slipped underneath the baggy T-shirt she’d borrowed, and his fingers reached her nipple just as a pair of claws attacked her — thankfully clothed— ankle. “BEN!”

Ben was a sweetheart about the whole situation, shooing Artoo out of the bed, making sure the hissing cat was banished and returning to hug her, all without laughing too much. However, Rey had other reasons to regret overreacting; Han was calling out in triumph about having won a bet, while Rey wished the covers could swallow her whole.

“Pay up, farm boy! The Solo genes never disappoint!”

From somewhere in the basement, Luke wailed. “Damn you, Ben, I thought I taught you better!”

“No amount of teaching would keep me celibate, Luke!” Ben howled back. Han’s laughter filled the hallway and disappeared down to Luke’s lair. Rey responded to Ben’s sentiment with a sharp pinch to his nipple. “Ow!”

“You were pretty celibate when I met you,” she reminded him with a raised eyebrow and a glare that could not maintain its heat upon landing on his naked shoulders. “And why are you never dressed when I’m angry?” Ben laughter crinkled the corners of his eyes, deepened his dimples and reverberated in his chest. Rey hid her face in it. “Why did I ever think meeting your family was a good idea?” 

“Hey, mom and my grandparents did nothing wrong.” The memory of grandma Padmé’s smile and Ben’s fingers running through her hair gradually eased Rey’s discomfort.

“Your dad and uncle betting on when you’d lay the pipe? Not what I hoped my in-laws would look forward to.” Rey huffed.

“That’s Han Solo for you. It was your idea that I “reconnected” with him anyway.” Ben winced immediately and wrapped his arms around Rey before she could jerk away from him. “I didn’t mean that. I’m a bit flustered from what they were saying, too. I do like the sound of them as your in-laws, though.” Her cheek rose subtly against his collarbone and he relaxed.

“I know things are still tense between you two, but I appreciate your efforts.” She kissed the hollow of his throat and laid back down. Ben rested his palm on the crown of her head, marveling at how delicate she felt, how she could still comfort him even when his bitterness lashed out, as it still did sometimes.

“You could find something positive out of their… hearing us.” Rey snorted as he voiced his words so slowly, she was sure his brows were scrunched as he contemplated them.

“It’s me they heard, and I find nothing positive about this.” She made no move to get off him, so Ben took it a good sign.

“Consider this.” She tilted her head and blinked— Ben had to bite his tongue from pointing out how feline she looked. “You were… reluctant to do anything in my parent’s house— yes, you said so yourself after getting drunk with Finn, no, there’s no reason to be embarrassed, you said nothing incriminating—“, Ben chuckled and gently pried the hands covering her hand away, “I knew you loved my dick without hearing any drunken confirmations.” Rey screeched and ducked away, Ben turning after her and laughing heartily. He caught her waist before she could roll out.

“You were worried that they would hear, but now that they think they heard you can face their reactions—which won’t be very dramatic, since we have to keep a distance— knowing that you did nothing of what they’ll mildly tease you about.” Rey stopped squirming to consider it.

“I hate how this somehow makes sense,” Rey groused as Ben took her stillness as an opportunity to lay a kiss on every freckle of her shoulders.

“The worst has passed and we could… keep it quiet in the future. Proceed in private,” he concluded with a kiss on her nape, and Rey would have loved to proceed with him, except her stomach was not on board; it chose that exact moment to grumble. She felt Ben’s chest tremble with silent laughter against her back, but he only hugged her tighter before slipping out of the bed. Rey immediately complained, despite the glorious view of his backside he offered her while standing up.

“When you try my pancakes, all your regrets about visiting my parents will disappear.” Rey beamed at him, despite her slight disappointment at watching his beautiful thighs disappear into some grey sweatpants. “I would have preferred if the quarantine had caught us at my place, but I still intend to make the most of it with you.”

Her heart swelled with love for the man, whose first thought in the face of a pandemic was making his life a home for her —and whose very broad, very solid torso was still within reach—so she handled it the best way she knew; by teasing him. “Do you have to go commando to make the most of the quarantine?”

“You’d rather I didn’t? Should I put on a shirt, too?” He fluffed the covers back over her as she curled up on his still-warm spot of the bed.

“Why must your shirt and boxers go hand-in-hand?” Rey squeaked in surprise when he squeezed in a hug, the covers a barrier between their bodies and his hair tickling her cheek.

“Is that it? You want me to bypass the shirt? Your wish is my command, sweetheart.” Ben pulled back, wearing the cocky grin that she’d been catching glimpses of ever since he’d quit Snoke and started getting his shit together.

“If you’re taking requests, you should wear an apron! That pink one I gifted Luke, I heard he handed it to Leia under some pretext? It would be such a nice look on you,” Rey suggested with a grin.

He paused by the door long only enough to roll his eyes, but Artoo managed to sneak in, his tail surviving Ben’s exist by a breath. The cat hopped gracefully on the bed. Rey eyes him warily, but a meow and a headbutt later, she welcomed him under the covers. Ensuring his human servants had no chance to procreate brightened his mood, apparently, and he was content to be petted and spoken softly to and even carried out of the bed and into the kitchen.

Rey lingered on the kitchen’s doorway to scratch Artoo lightly behind his ears and admire the ripple of Ben’s back muscles as he reached for ingredients, but mostly to resist pinching herself in disbelief at how her life turned out to be. “Do you need any help?”

“Pick some music and keep Artoo occupied, please. Between him and the pancakes, I know who I’m saving,” he answered without turning.

“Him, of course, and then you’d have to make another batch to feed your starving girlfriend.” Rey fiddled with the old radio in the corner. Chopin’s Waltz in A minor, B 150 wafted through the speakers and she glided across the kitchen floor, holding Artoo as her dance-partner. Ben laughed heartily as she spun and dipped herself, the cat perched on her chest with a rather disoriented look on his face. 

With a final bow to her imaginary audience, but mostly to her boyfriend, who’d been dividing his attention between her and the batter, she dragged out a chair and folded her legs. Rey was content to admire Ben’s backside and corded forearms, as his perfectionist side would appreciate her staying away from his pan more than any help, while Artoo was visibly pleased to be seated on unmoving terrain again and to receive the petting that was due.

“See, he’s warming up to me,” Rey proudly exclaimed as her happy giant cook handed her a plate stacked high with pancakes and a bottle of hand sanitizer. At the sight of the cleaning product, Artoo fled; hence Ben and Rey enjoyed their syrup-sweet breakfast in private.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> content warning: recreational use of drugs (the briefest, most innocuous mention of weed, but i should warn you nonetheless). at least half of this chapter is Ben simply cooking; enjoy their domestic bliss.

Soft music sweetening the air, sunshine peering through billowy curtains, warmth stemming less from the stove and more from each other; the kitchen was a safe haven for the couple, one they wished to never leave. With the exception of Han dropping by to leave grocery bags behind the door and remind them not to defile the room where the food is prepared, they spent a peaceful morning. Ben was completely in his element, happily picking herbs from the little pots on the sill and explaining how each dish was best seasoned to a smitten Rey. He ended up cooking a different lunch for almost every individual, accompanying each with a story for his girlfriend’s curious ears.

Luke’s meal was a quick vegetarian recipe, brimful of blue and green cheeses with unpronounceable names. Back when the humidity was no threat to his bones and his hair was still a cherubean blond, he’d backpacked through Europe and brought back with him Wedge Antillies, lots of weed and a taste for gourmet dairy products. His choice of souvenirs was unique, but Rey lost all will to know more about them when the cheese’s smell hit her; she was out of the door just as Ben set a jug of water, a pack of mints and utensils next to the plate. The staircase leading to the basement seemed to stretch on forever; she dropped his tray, banged a fist against his door and ran up so fast, Luke caught no trace of her when he trudged over to receive his meal.

Ben worked with dough next, his biceps straining against the shirt he sadly had to wear and the veins on his forearms putting on a show for Rey’s eyes to feast on. The Organas, he informed her, loved a good meat pie, and after marrying into the family, it became one of Han’s favorites as well. Her boyfriend leaned in then, his flour-covered nose brushing the shell of her ear as he whispered something so embarrassing for the eldest Solo that he would never admit to it.

Rey laughed heartily at the secret; the man who drove cars at a speed greater than 333 km/h for a living and bullshitted his way past every obstacle was once fiddling with his bow tie at the front door of this very house, dreading his future in-law’s disapproval, so anxious that only scarfing down two plates of the infamous pie loosened him up enough to look Breha Organa in the eye. Still, a part of her was comforted; her awkwardness upon facing Leia and Han lost much of its importance. Who knew, maybe someday Ben would tell a similar story about her barely touching her food in the presence of her in-laws and a freckled child with adorably big ears would giggle as she did.

She was snapped out of her warm reverie by the sight of Ben handling yet another dough, right after shoving the pie in the oven. He is quick to answer the silent question of her raised brow, his features conflicted as he spoke of his grandfather Anakin. The bread he was making was the one a desert boy gifted to his love, hence it could be argued that the recipe was among the bloodline’s strongest foundations. Anakin passed it on to Leia, after she reluctantly accepted to be taught by him, hell, to even be in the same room as him. It’s clear that quite an emotional weight seasoned this bread, along with thyme and other herbs she didn’t recognize; he made two big loaves which join the pie soon after.

Rey took the reins after Ben took out the meat pie, threw a quick salad together and dropped two trays off, one by the Organa’s room and another in front of the garage Han had camped in. She made a nice, filling stew, the recipe she picked up from Chewie during his and her foster mother’s, Maz Kanata’s, brief relationship. Ben entered just in time to try the spoonful of broth Rey held a bit too close to his face. The taste brought up another string of memories; Chewbacca’s surprising friendship with Padmé, Anakin’ wife, Leia’s biological mother and his sweet grandmother. Rey was particularly interested in the cute old lady that was eager to meet her, but couldn’t afford getting distracted and risking the state of the stew, so Ben talked lightly of how cuddly she found Chewbacca and how he endured her teasing about his love life to a point that if reached by anyone else would result in him walking out of their life.

The last thing cooked that day was some pasta specifically for his —secretly favorite— grandmother. Padmé Amidala used to be the cherished queen of a small Italian kingdom, apparently; she lost her throne, but not most of her refined preferences, such as a tasty first dish. Rey was salivating before he even finished sautéing the cheek lard; Ben, who had long been acquainted with her love for all things spicy, emptied half his skillet on a plate for her when it was done.

Ben left a tray with bread, stew and two slices of yesterday’s leftover cake at the door of his mother office, knocking lightly so not to disturb Leia’s work and vanishing right after. The final delivery was made by Rey, who walked slowly to savor the enticing smell of pasta al’ amarticiana and was quite saddened to reach the threshold of the original Skywalkers. Artoo accompanied her on instead of curling up on the radio, as he did when there was still a cooking process to inspect. The cat sat right next to the tray, precariously close to the bowl of stew; he ignored Rey’s cooing and stood still, his vibrant blue eyes trained on the door. As if summoned, a scratching echoed from the other side of the door, followed by off-key meowing. The door handle curved before Rey could have a chance to knock; a prosthetic hand and a head half-full of luscious, silver hair greeted her, but she fled before their owner could utter a word.

“Is there another cat in the house?” Rey asked her boyfriend once they finally sat down to eat, sharing the fruits of ─mostly Ben’s─ labor. The pasta tasted even better than they smelled, so she stuffed her mouth with it and waited as Ben politely chewed the last of his bite before speaking.

“Yes, my grandfather had gifted both Artoo and Threepio to my grandmother years before they got together. And yes, he is terrible at pet names,” he answered and nudged the biggest slice of meat pie closer to her.

“What is Threepio like?”

“A menace.”

“You said the same for Artoo, but he’s actually quite sweet.” Ben glared at her between spoonfuls of stew.

“He’s aggressively yellow, has a prosthetic limb like half the men in this house and is spooked by the slightest of sounds. The only one who calms him down is grandmother, which coincidentally also applies to her husband.” Ben hid his smirk in another forkful, but the glimmer in his eyes was unmistakable.

“So he gave her the cat version of himself?” Rey propped her chin on her palm, smiling at that oddly endearing notion.

“On the contrary, few things scare my grandfather.” A shadow crossed his face, gone as soon as he blinked back to the present, to Rey’s warm, curious expression. “I always imagined him talking to his cats for hours on end about how wonderful she is, until they loved her, too, before they even met her.”

“That’s so sweet! Your family is a goldmine of romantic stories,” Rey exclaimed, yet there was a hint of bitterness in her words, of the envy an orphan can’t help when confronting large, happy families. Ben knew better than to prod against it; he only nudged her thoughts elsewhere. “Maz and Chewie have quite a story, too, I heard.”

“They could probably star in a soap opera at this point. It’s true,” Rey assured a laughing Ben, “even his ex-wife was involved at some point. They broke up just enough times to cover ten episodes, all during the one year of her fostering me.”

“They probably spent long nights by the fireplace, eating stew and crocheting.” Rey scoffed at the image.

“If the fireplace is lit, the store is filled with drunken patrons. Maz is too ambitious to let long nights pass without thinking up something to draw more customers.” It was Rey’s turn to look a little wistful; so long as the quarantine lasted, she would not be able to visit her foster mom.

“You take after her, you know. Your tenacity to live, to succeed. You’re both very admirable.” Rey tucked her hand in his outstretched palm.

“Your family is very admirable, too. All your stories give off a sense of peace, in the end.” Ben snorted.

“Oh no, sweetheart. Peace, in this house? Never. Wait a bit and you’ll find out; Skywalker is the synonym of drama.” 


End file.
